


a thousand and twenty-two kisses

by copenhagenborn



Series: i know one day i'll get mine [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Harry's Birthday, M/M, mentions of freddie, mentions of hendall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 16:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5878444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copenhagenborn/pseuds/copenhagenborn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But even hidden behind fatigue, wear and tear, Harry will always be able to tell Niall's voice apart from the rest. A single beam of light in the middle of night , staying clear while the rest of them just fades away until it's just the two of them left to their own devices. </p><p>"Yeah, that's - I'm here Niall."</p>
            </blockquote>





	a thousand and twenty-two kisses

He hasn't been around for long when his phone rings. A vibrating sound coming from his pocket as he gets out of the bathroom.

He considers not taking it - it's an hour and thirty-three minutes past midnight - it's no longer his responsibility to answer all hundred and sixty calls he has gotten throughout the day. But there's still that little feeling of curiosity - if he might just had forgotten the time and date when he's stuck in Australia, almost an entire day ahead of LA time - lingering around in the back of his heart, begging him to take it and relieve him of his agony.

"Hello?"

He doesn't look at the caller id. He's never been good at that, likes to draw it out until there's no other way than to face his problems head on.

"Haz? That's you?"

The voice on the other end is rough, tired and used as if he's been sitting through meetings the entire day  - like they did way back when, when Zayn decided he couldn't be with them any longer, when they had to decide what to do with the remaining four; if it was worth if continuing even if they had lost a brother.

But even hidden behind fatigue, wear and tear, Harry will always be able to tell Niall's voice apart from the rest. A single beam of light in the middle of night , staying clear while the rest of them just fades away until it's just the two of them left to their own devices.

"Yeah, that's - I'm here Niall."

He releases a stuttering breath, lets the relief fill his bones until he can't sit still anymore.

"So uh,"

"I really."

"You go first, please."

Harry breathes with a smile. He tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder as he walks to the balcony, looking down over the darkening city.

"Have you gone seen Freddie yet? Louis sent me some pictures. Liam's there of course, has been since the damn thing came out of Briana. But like, I haven't seen him for myself yet, thought maybe you had."

"He's great, yeah, looks like his father - isn't that what you say? But uh, we're still not. We're not talking that much right now. Liam texted me when he got there, but Lou has been - not a word, you know."

He wants to shrug it off, like it doesn't matter that someone he's consider a brother for five years doesn't want to stay in touch anymore now that they  no longer has to. He knows it partially his fault, that no one can be ignored or shrugged off as many time as Louis has without starting to feel some sort of anger.

"I just thought that maybe now that the cameras are off and we're allowed to be just us, there could be something between us again, you know? Nothing like what he and Liam have, but a day here and there wouldn't hurt. And now with the baby and everything,  I thought he might want some help with that."

There's a pause at the other end of the line.

"Have you like, have you tried taking the initiative?"

There's something bitter in Niall's voice when he speaks again, like he already knows the answer to that.

"I'm - no, but that's not what I meant-"

"So what you're saying is that you, who have been doing close to nothing but hanging out on bloody yachts with girls you supposedly aren't dating, thought it would be best if Louis - the new father - took time out of his now very busy life to text you first? And now that he haven't, you're feeling a bit miffed. Did I understand that right?"

"Why are you attacking me, Niall?"

"I'm not, you-" there's a frustrated noise at the other end, like Niall's removing the phone from his ear to cuss out load but still wants to avoid Harry hearing it. "That's not what I'm doing Haz, you know that. It's just-"

There's a thump by the front door, but he ignores it, lets Niall grunt in frustration for another second.

"You do this sometimes Harry. I know you don't know it, but you have these small grudges that you hold for absolutely no reason! You cling onto these little pieces of information or incidents and just assumes it not you who has to make it right, when you're just as much at fault as the other person. And when they don't notices that you want back into their life, you just cut them out because, their loss right?"

Harry frowns, because that's not true.

He's a good friend, he checks up on people he hasn't heard from in a long time, flies them out or takes his time to schedule a skype call when it's been a while. Louis is, Louis's different; has always been when it comes to Harry and the twisted thing they once called a friendship.

"I'm not, that's not me, Niall. I don't give up on my friends."

He says instead. He doesn't raises his voice, doesn't feel like being mad, because it's his god damn birthday and this call was supposed to be a silver lining to leaving the party early.

"Oh that's right, I forget it's only former band members you do that to, isn't it?"

He tries to ignore the blatant scoff Niall lets out, how he's sure to be shaking his head in anger as he gets up from wherever he had been sitting before, pacing the floor with angry steps, brows pulled together in a furious frown. Just like he did when Harry had proposed a break between the two of them; time to figure out if a relationship between the two of them was possible if they weren't living in each others' pockets.

"Niall.." he sighs achingly.

He wants to reach out and touch him, cradle the soft skin of his cheek and run a hand through his darkening roots. He hates that they're doing this over the phone, that he can't read the emotions on Niall's face, and instead is stuck trying to analyse the sound of his voice.

"What? Am I wrong then? And in which way? Because supposedly you're fucking over your former band by going solo - a thing we promised none of us would seek out right now, and certainly not without checking in with the others - and the fact that you claimed to need time to be by yourself to which you were seen with fucking Kendall Jenner a week later. Tell me where I misunderstood something, because I'm all ears at this point."

He hates this, hates the malice Niall is so good at harvesting and concentrating until there's nothing you can do but curl in on yourself in sheer guilt. He's seen it before, like back when he got the word from Ed that Ellie hadn't been single during their hook up, how he had laid into her for over an hour asking her what the fuck she had been during. Or back when he still cared about what Greg was saying about him, how he had used Theo in a way Niall could never forgive.

But this time Harry doesn't get to be the supportive best mate holding his hand afterwards, doesn't get to kiss away the kiss and tell him that everything is going to be okay, because he's the one who fucked up.

"It's not what you think, I'm. I'm just writing a bit of music, and Jeff thought it would be a good idea. I'm not going solo, Niall. You know that, we've talked about this for so long. I don't wanna do this alone."

His tone is bordering on begging, but there's nothing else to do when he can't see Niall like he wants to.

"You don't need a bloody manager just because you're doing a bit of writing on the side. Stop acting like we're stupid, Harry! You can say all the shit you want, talk circles around interviewers and fans on the street. But don't forget that I know you, have done so for a long time, so stop acting like you're so much better than the rest of us and come out and say it."

It's all a bit too much when the clock is bordering on two am and he's still a bit drunk from the wine he had during dinner.

"Why do you even care Niall? You're in fucking Australia, just turned tail and ran the minute you were off the hook, didn't you? You didn't even go back home to visit family, just went straight back to your little slides of heaven down under, rubbing elbows with every fucking sports star that just so coincidentally appeared next to you."

"Because you fucking told me to! You said you didn't wanna be together right now because you needed to know if this was true or just convenience to you. I would have fucking stayed in LA if you had let me, because I love you Harry, I've told you so so many times, but that doesn't matter to you. Not when there's someone with a bit of fame to their name who isn't sick of you yet. Tell me Harry, how did that Kendall thing work out? Is she there with you right now? Was she even at the fucking party tonight?"

"You are such a _jerk._ " Harry yells out in anger, stomping his feet until the glass shelf above the couch falls to the ground, smashing into tiny little pieces. "You know absolutely nothing about me or mine, so don't come here and act like you do. You didn't even bother calling me on my actual birthday; instead you come here and attack me for being a bad friend, a bad bandmate; what more do you want to add to the list Niall?"

"There was a time where I thought boyfriend would be somewhere on it, but that was something we never quite were, don't you think?" Niall scoffs, but there's something stuck in his throat. "Happy birthday Harry, might wanna start replying to Liam's text before he stops trying to care about you."

He's gone then. The dull beeping of a call ended the only thing in Harry's ear now.

He has half a mind to ring him back up, to tell him that Kendall was never a thing he wanted to go back to, that the yacht was Jeff's doing and nothing had happened. That he had been missing Niall more than what he would like to admit, and that he would gladly get on the next flight to Australia if he would forget everything he'd just said.

He doesn't though.

Throws the phone to the bed as he heads to the door to get out; fresh air might help with the anger boiling in his stomach.

But there just in front of his door lies a card - one of those with an ugly drawing and something cheesy about age written on the front.

He almost doesn't pick it up, wants to throw it out before reading it so he doesn't think about the what ifs. But he's a weak man and the card's right there.

_'A thousand and twenty-two kisses for the birthday boy._  
_Thought a visit might be better than a gift._  
_Love you always, N.'_


End file.
